As if he'd expended all the energy he'd had on trying to make Jamie understand, Maxwell put no further fight nor argument. When they reached the cot, he dropped down onto it like a sack of soiled laundry - just as sweat stained, just as energetic.

The only sound he made was low and soft, something torn between a groan and sigh as Jamie turned away and the shades moved in again, green and uncertain.

Whispering and shifting, in and out.